


Brian: The Empire Incident

by MistressPandora



Series: Knotty John and His Men [4]
Category: Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Chatty smut, Crack, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Gender swapped Brianna, Improvised Sex Toys, M/M, Modern AU, Nerds in Love, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romantic Comedy, Rope Bondage, Safeword Use, Sex Swing, Shenanigans, Shibari, So many pop culture references, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, an inordinate amount of flirting, but not dirty talk, this fic not sponsored by Ikea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:34:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28277694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressPandora/pseuds/MistressPandora
Summary: Most couples experience the occasional embarrassing mishap and shenanigans. Even Brian Randall and John Grey.
Relationships: Lord John Grey/Brian Randall
Series: Knotty John and His Men [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2043652
Comments: 14
Kudos: 14
Collections: Lord John Grey Cocoa and Kink 2020, Outlander Bingo Challenge





	Brian: The Empire Incident

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iihappydaysii](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iihappydaysii/gifts).



> Merry Christmas, Ash!
> 
> Written for the [Lord John Grey Reading Nook](https://lordjohngreyreadingnook.tumblr.com) Cocoa and Kink fic event.
> 
> This story fills my Outlander Bingo Square **"Call me Daddy"** ... I guess. Close enough, I'm claiming it.

Brian had no idea where the hell John had been stashing a freaking _sex swing_ in his condo, yet here the hell it was now. It was the self-contained kind on a big steel frame, which his upstairs neighbors probably appreciated and the downstairs neighbors were bound to hate if it wasn’t perfectly square. It’s not like John had a massive apartment. It was a decent size for Boston, but he’d had to build the swing in the living room, shoving the sofa and coffee table back against the wall. There’s no way this thing would have fit in his bedroom. It’s not like John and Brian hadn’t had sex in the living room before, and the curtains were all closed, so there wasn’t anything weird about it. Except that John was willing, apparently, to temporarily convert said living room into a kinky sex dungeon with a big ass swing that might have come directly off the set of _Magic Mike_.

Saying only that he had a surprise for him, John had undressed Brian and strapped him naked into the swing. And then he’d just… disappeared toward the bedroom and left Brian hanging here. It was a comfortable perch, at least, nicely padded in all the right places, soft restraints around his wrists and ankles. Brian looked up at the joints and chains supporting his weight, imagining what it would feel like when John fucked him on it.

What the hell was taking him so long, anyway? 

Brian let out a sigh and relaxed back in the swing, making it sway. He paused and let out a curious hum. He looked back to the hall that led to the bedroom. Still no sign of John. He shrugged and leaned way back, straightening his legs as much as he could. At first, the swing only moved a few inches. But after a few strategic leg stretches, Brian managed to get the swing going back and forth enough to make one of the legs come up a little. Brian’s stomach flopped and he gasped, going perfectly still, dangling there at the mercy of the _Magic Mike_ swing and gravity.

What was John _doing?_

The sound of footsteps came from the hallway, shoes on the hardwood floor. Wait. Why the hell was John still wearing shoes? What had he been doing all that time if he was still wearing shoes? Brian’s mind raced through every conversation they’d had in the past two days, searching for a clue as to what was about to come around that corner.

Every light in the condo went dark, and Brian abandoned all expectations. He thought at first that the power had gone out, but the little light on John’s DVR was still on. “John? Ah, babe, whatcha doin’?”

A few more footsteps, slow, deliberate, then muffled as John stepped onto the carpet. Brian squinted into the dark but his eyes hadn’t had time to adjust and all he could make out was what he thought was probably a vaguely John-shaped shadow in the middle of all the other shadows.

“Is this going to be one of those games where we don’t talk?” Brian asked, unaccountably nervous. The swing had mostly stopped swaying. “‘Cause you know, body language is a little easier to read when I can actually see your—”

John said nothing, and as far as Brian could tell he didn’t move, but he would have recognized that sound anywhere. An odd, electronic inhale of a raspy, labored breath, followed by the deeper, terrifyingly more natural _whoosh_ of an exhale.

Of all the things that Brian had expected to happen when the lights went out, Darth Vader breathing less than six feet away from his naked ass was definitely _not it._

For a brief, ridiculous moment, Brian’s heart leapt into his throat like it had when he’d watched _The Empire Strikes Back_ as a kid and had nightmares about Darth Vader for two days. “John?”

An exceptionally distinct _snap-hiss-hum_ and a red beam of light extended from John’s hand, casting enough of an eerie crimson glow to illuminate what could only be John dressed in a full Darth Vader costume. It looked like a solid quality piece too, Brian could hear the faint groan of leather. He kind of hoped it wasn’t a voice-changing helmet John wore.

“What—um… John?” Was this because Brian had told him about the time he got creative with a toy lightsaber?

“It is useless to resist, young Skywalker,” John said. In James Earl-fucking-Jones’ voice.

“Oh no. No no no no,” Brain said, fumbling for his safe word. “Nope, no— _Jar Jar Binks!”_ Aha, that was it. _Goddammit, why did I have to pick such a relevant safe word?_ “Jar Jar Binks!”

John took off the helmet and was by his side in three long strides. “What’s wrong? Brian, talk to me.” The helmet was still breathing in John’s hand. 

“You can’t—why… I mean, it’s a great costume, and it _could_ be weirdly really hot, maybe.” Brian glanced down at the lightsaber that John was still holding, their only source of light. It looked like one of the nice replicas too. “I’m curious about what you were going to do with that—but no. _No_. You can’t be Vader and me be Skywalker, that’s a total boner-killer.”

John frowned down at Brian, the odd lighting making that cute line between his dark brows appear even more pronounced. “I’m sorry, my dear, I didn’t realize.”

“How many times? How many times have we watched _Empire_ together? At least a dozen.”

“Well, probably, but—”

“But nothing, don’t you remember the end?” Brian tried to wave a hand to emphasize how very _not okay_ this was, but he was still strapped into the swing and he just sort of bounced in place.

John’s frown deepened. “Not particularly, no. Did we ever make it to the end? That’s the one with the ice planet and the green swamp muppet, yes?”

“Yoda, John! His name is Yoda.” Brian stifled a frustrated groan, suddenly recalling that they had not, in fact, ever made it to the end. “Incidentally, why do you always get frisky when Luke’s on Dagobah?”

John shrugged and averted his eyes for a moment. “The escape from the ice planet—”

“Hoth.”

“Right. It’s a good battle sequence,” John muttered. “I suppose that gets me going.”

The initial shock was fading, and Brian was calming down. “Okay, but I told you about Vader, remember?”

“I remember you said ‘daddy.’” The helmet was still breathing, and John switched it off.

Brian flopped back in the swing, and it rocked rather dramatically. “Oh my _God_ , the _one_ time I actually said ‘father.’ Babe. Vader is Luke’s _father_.” John blinked twice, working it out, possibly reliving some conversations. “Get it? So for you to dress like Vader—which would actually be kinda sexy otherwise, nice job, we should revisit this later—and then call me _Skywalker…_ You might as well put on a red wig and a Scottish accent.” Brian angled a finger at John as best he could from his place in the swing. “Do not do that under any circumstances ever.”

John grimaced, eyes wide, and shook his head. “Absolutely not. And I see your point.” He sighed, frowning, looking rather defeated and disappointed.

“Hey,” Brian said gently, and John looked back up at him. “It’s okay. You tried really hard and it was _so close_ and really sweet of you. Did you get that entire costume just for this? Because wow.” Brian gave John a gentle smile. “Why don’t you get me out of this thing and we can go cuddle up and watch a movie—not _Star Wars_ —and see where the night goes, huh?”

Nodding, John smiled back at him and started opening the velcro cuffs around Brian’s ankles by the light of that damn lightsaber, still humming away. “What are you in the mood to watch?” He freed Brian’s arms next and helped him climb down.

“I’ve got a sudden hankering for eighties-era Harrison Ford. _Raiders_?” Brian took the lightsaber from John and hefted it, gave it a little swing with a _swooshing_ sound. It was heavy too, good weight. Nice smooth plexiglass casing on the blade. He pinched the blade between his thumb and forefinger and found that it put out virtually no heat. Interesting.

“Absolutely,” John answered, one leather glove on the small of Brian’s back as they made their way to the bedroom. “Just let me get out of this ridiculous costume. Shall I put on my fedora?”

Brian contemplated this. “Now we’re talking.”

* * *

With minimal prompting, John had promised not to surprise Brian with un-discussed sexy time cosplay anymore if Brian agreed never to mention _The Empire Incident_ again. Brian was all too glad to make that deal. As far as Brian could tell, they’d successfully moved on from the debacle, so much so that Brian was only a tiny bit concerned a few days later when he opened John’s front door to find the sex swing waiting in the living room again. Seriously, where did he stash it?

John closed the door behind Brian and shoved him against it with a thud. Brian caught a flash of feral grin before John was on him, pressing against him with his entire body, pinning him, devouring his lips. John's tongue filled his mouth, one of them sucked in a sharp breath through his nose— maybe both of them—and Brian thought his head would explode. John tasted like the one-and-done pint of Guinness he always drank at Thursday night happy hour with his partner when they finished their patrol shift. 

Brian could have gone on kissing John like that for hours, and when John pulled away Brian was breathing hard and a little dizzy. "So, right here in the foyer then?"

“Strip,” John said, all dark and commanding and sexy.

“I knew that thing came off the set of _Magic Mike_.” While Brian was trapped with his shirt and hoodie wrapped around his face at the same time, John grabbed a firm handful of his ass, and Brian yelped. “Ow, hey!” 

Flailing wasn’t helping the hoodie situation, but John gave his clothes a firm tug, which did. “Do you want me to do it again?”

“Well, yeah.” Brian threw his arms around John’s neck and kissed him, groaning into his mouth this time when John dug his fingers into his ass through his jeans. They tore at each other’s clothes. Belts, socks, shirts, pants cascaded to the floor in a trail from the front door to the living room. 

John steered them in front of the swing and pushed Brian back so that he stood between the supports. They were both panting, John’s lips pink and swollen, and Brian watched him carefully rein in his made desire. “Arms out to your sides,” John said. He urged Brian’s arms up to either side of him. “Grab on.” Brian’s arms were long enough to easily reach both supports with his elbows bent, the metal cool in his hands. John gave him a long look up and down and back up again, licking his lips.

Feeling rather wonderfully like a choice cut of steak, Brian straightened his spine, squared his shoulders, and relished John’s frank appraisal. 

“Stay here.” John turned away and hurried down the hall to the bedroom.

“Oh come on, not this again.” Brian stayed where he was told, glaring at the empty space where John disappeared around the corner. _If I see that freaking helmet, I swear to God…_

He heard John’s dresser drawers open and shut a couple times, then John was back with a large coil of rope and safety shears in his hand. Depositing the shears on the bookcase, John began unwinding the rope, eyes glued to Brian’s body the entire time. "This wasn't my original plan," he said, finding the middle of the rope and coming close to Brian again. His free hand traced Brian's outstretched arm, fingers skimming over all the dips and swells of muscle. His touch continued over Brian's shoulders, down his chest, side, abdomen, to his hip in a caress that could only be described as _reverent._ "But you've inspired me."

John, Brian had been delighted to discover, was occasionally into some rather kinky shit. Hence the sex swing in the living room and the drawers of rope and a variety of other toys in the bedroom. For John, shibari was an art form. When he tied Brian up it was rarely a significant restraint and more often to decorate him, to make interesting patterns with rope against Brian's skin or to put him into different poses. John made Brian into beautiful art with his ropes. There was a little box in John's bedroom containing a stack of photos, all of Brian in various styles of rope bondage. They were all taken with one of those nostalgic, instant cameras and constituted the sum total of Brian Randall Original Dick Pics to ever exist.

The rope John had brought was his longest one, made of natural hemp and well treated so that it was silky smooth. He started winding it around Brian's upper chest and shoulders, splitting it and making loops and careful twists. The effect reminded him of the macrame projects his twin sister Brianna had been obsessed with for six months in high school. Except the twists and bends in the rope contoured to Brian's chest, highlighted his musculature. 

John had this sexy and frankly adorable habit of tucking one side of his plush lower lip under his teeth and narrowing his right eye just a tiny bit. The gentle way his hands moved over and around Brian’s body sent sparks across his skin, all the little hairs on his arms and legs dancing with it. The way John got into it when he was in the zone like this, every movement, each touch precise and adoring and intimately possessive. Sometimes, when it got really complex, Brian got the sense that he ceased to be a separate person for a time, that he became an extension of John’s vision. It was a rather bizarre, disjointed sensation, but just as it started to get unsettling, John would look him in the eyes like he was staring at the face of God— _just like that._

John looked up then and it set off an army of hummingbirds in Brian’s chest. They smiled at each other like the hopelessly in-love fools that they were and John tied off the rope.

“You, my love, are an absolute marvel.” John traced the rope with his fingers, paying special attention to all the places he had twisted it gently over his skin, looking for pinch points, probably. Brian might have blushed at the praise, or made some stupid joke to deflect it, but John’s hands were on his waist and his lips were on his mouth and there was nothing left to say or think. He was breathless when John pulled away. “Up you go, dear.”

It only took a minute or two to get Brian into the swing and for John to strap him in. John's tongue was suddenly wet and warm and licking Brian's hard dick from base to tip. Brian gasped, surprised and delighted and then that tongue was in his mouth. "I'll be right back," John said. He released the strap of the swing and Brian swayed and spun, dangling there.

Sudden, intense dread rushed through Brian. That was exactly what John had said the other night. Before _The Empire Incident_. “John. No, babe, you promised.”

John laughed, but he didn’t get any farther away than the couch shoved against the wall. “Don’t worry. This is all I’m wearing tonight.” 

He was naked of course. Brian was looking right at him, saw all that gorgeous skin—let his eyes linger on John’s erection—and smirked like he’d just realized it for the first time. “Yeah, okay. I’m good with that.” John turned his back to Brian and in the dim light he could see that he was doing _something_. A plastic _click_ followed by a slightly gooey, wet sound. He was putting lube on something?

Before Brian had a chance to puzzle it out, John turned back around, his left hand held behind him out of sight. To anyone else, John would have looked totally casual, but Brian could tell he was being _intentionally_ casual, which made Brian curious as hell. “What are you up to—oh, hells yes.” Brian trailed off, his words drowning in a moan as John took his cock into his mouth. John gave him a nudge and Brian swang back a little, though John stayed where he was. The effect of it as that Brian was more or less fucking John’s mouth even though he had no meaningful control over his movement. John did some fantastic swirly thing with his tongue and Brian’s eyes nearly rolled back in his head. The only thing that stopped him from flopping backward in the swing was that from his current angle he could watch his dick disappear into John’s mouth over and over again, his own torso criss-crossed in that lovely macramé in the foreground.

It was apparently going to be one of those brain-melting blowjobs. John already had an exceptionally talented mouth, but sometimes everything clicked into place just so and made Brian go absolutely wild with pleasure. “Oh my God,” Brian gasped. “Holy shit, babe.”

John gave a rather satisfied hum, perfectly timed so that the head of Brian’s cock was in the back of his throat when he did it. The next time Brian swang back into John's mouth, John slipped one lubed up finger inside of him, twisting, curling, testing. "Ah, yes," John said, grinning like he was up to something nefarious. "That should work well."

_"John_ —" Something short-circuited in Brian's brain when John took him into his mouth again. "God. What should work—"

_Snap-hiss-hum._

The room was suddenly, and predictably, bathed in a blood red glow and Brian gaped at John. For a long moment they just stared at each other over the lightsaber and Brian's twitching cock. 

Brian licked his lips, trying to work up enough spit and brain juice to string words together. "What, um… whatcha gonna do with that?"

That absolutely devilish grin twisted John's lips and crinkled the skin around his eyes. "You're a smart boy. What do you think I'm about to do with you spread-eagle and a well lubricated lightsaber?"

"Oh, sweet freaking— _Jesus!"_ It felt rather like a hard dildo and wouldn't have been all that novel, except when John moved the thing, the pitch of the _hum_ changed. It was an excellent replica with fantastic sound effects. So for one very short, very ridiculous moment, a bolt of insane fear went through Brian. Then he realized he was being a dumbass, relaxed, and let John do his thing. It was an interesting, uncompromising stretch and John slid it in and out of him slowly, cautiously. The rope around Brian's torso felt tighter, his breath coming harder, panting and gasping. "Oh God, John."

“This is incredibly fascinating to see.” John grinned at him, eyes wide with delight. “I hope you’re having as much fun as I am. How does it feel?”

Brian moaned, his body going all tingly. “Weirdly awesome.” John pushed him, and the swing rocked, making Brian let out a nervous squeak.

“Don’t worry, I won’t actually impale you.” 

“Uh huh,” Brian said. He relaxed when he felt John’s hand against him, wrapped tightly around the blade to control the depth and angle. John sucked on his dick again and the combination left him momentarily nonverbal. “You know,” Brian said, never one to be speechless for long. “Some couples do trust falls.”

John did the swirly-tongue thing again before pulling off and pressing a kiss to Brian’s inner thigh, still swinging him back and forth. “Would you rather do that?”

“Hell no. _Freaking hell_ ,” Brian groaned. “I mean, if you can’t trust your partner to shove a three-and-a-half foot lightsaber blade up your ass, are you even in love?”

John gave him _that look_ that was all sap and googly eyes, and Brian thought his heart would explode. “I couldn’t agree more.” He went back to using his mouth, still fucking him with the lightsaber. Either John flicked his wrist or Brian clenched around the thing. Whichever the case, the lightsaber emitted an electronic, clashing sound, and they both dissolved into a fit of laughter. John pulled the lightsaber out of him, switched it off— _ssshsshk_ —and set it aside. 

That wicked gleam was back in John’s eyes. Grabbing him by the rope wrapped around his chest, he yanked Brian up in his seat and kissed his mouth. The rope bit into Brian’s flesh everywhere it was twisted and looped. He’d probably have rope hickeys when this was all said and done.

“I was going to draw this out,” John said against Brian’s lips. “Take my time taking you apart.” Another kiss, wet and sloppy and also brain-melty. “But I can’t wait anymore. Do you object?”

Brian groaned. John could have suggested almost anything and he would have gone along with it. “None whatsoever,” he said, breathless.

One last kiss. “Good.” John released him and Brian rocked back in the swing. He wasn’t kidding when he said he couldn’t wait. Slicking himself up, John got Brain’s movement under control again and then slid directly into him. 

Everything dissolved into frantic pleasure. Wild swinging that had the contraption groaning and thumping on the floor— _Sorry about that, Mrs. Fitz_. Just more and more and harder and harder. John’s hand was still slippery when he wrapped it around Brian’s cock and stroked it, rough and crazed. It was probably one of the top ten best orgasms of Brian’s life.

"Okay, I've gotta ask because I can't take it anymore." They lay in bed, Brian's head pillowed on John's chest and John drawing lazy lines on Brian's arm with his fingertips. 

"Hmm?" Brian felt the interrogative vibrate in John's chest. It was hard to tell in the dark, but Brian thought he was nearly asleep.

"Where the hell do you keep that thing?"

"What thing?" John’s voice was thick, definitely almost asleep. 

"The swing. I've seen every square inch of this condo and I think I would have noticed a big sex swing before." Brian waited but John said nothing, so he poked him in the side.

John twitched and made a wordless, grumpy noise. 

"Babe. This is a stupid thing to torture me over."

John let out a sleepy sigh. "It comes apart. And the pieces fit in that big drawer under the bed."

"Liar."

The pillow rustled as John turned his head to squint down at Brian. "Why would I lie to you about that?"

Brian grumbled. "You wouldn't. I'm just disappointed you don't have a secret passage or murder closet or something."

John chuckled. "One, this is a condo in Boston, not a castle in Germany. Two, I'm a cop. I know better than to keep my murder closet on the premises. And three…"

He trailed off and Brian jabbed him again. "Three?"

"Ikea makes really affordable small space storage options."

Brian buried his face against John's chest and groaned. "Oh my God, why am I with you, you giant dork."

John laughed again. "Because you love me."

"Well, you got me there."

"And I love you."

"I know." The setup was too perfect for Brian to let it pass, even though John _still_ hadn't seen _Empire_ to the end.

John sank his fingers into Brian's hair. "Don't get cocky."

"You _love_ my cock," Brian said and rolled his hips against John's thigh.

John's fingers tightened in Brian's hair. It didn't hurt but it made his point. "Well aren't we cheeky for someone who's just been fucked by a lightsaber."

"You love that too and you know it." Brian's face was getting sore from smiling and laughing. God, John made him indescribably happy.

John was quick. He drew his hand back and smacked Brian directly on the ass with a loud crack.

Brian yelped and then moaned. "I told you so."

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Brian: The Empire Incident](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28713957) by [LeviSqueaks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeviSqueaks/pseuds/LeviSqueaks)




End file.
